Prologue
Thirteen years ago– Wales
Kay lay on her back,struggling desperately for air, but only managing tiny, panicked gasps. Bloody stupid tree. Bloody stupid Shadows.
She finally managed to drag in a shuddering breath while pain shot up her back and mortification flooded through her body. Who knocked the wind out of their lungs after the age of five?
More importantly, who fell out of a tree when they were fifteen years old? Who else had to completely relearn the entire world from scratch like they were a baby? Only a person who had no idea what they were doing. Who had already been humiliated and rejected in every possible way. That was who.
She flung her arms over her face, covering her eyes, and tried to push the memories away. Tried, but failed.
Music thudded a heavy beat in the packed room. Too many people. She recognized some from her class, while others were much too old for this sweet sixteen glow-in-the-dark house party. Hot, heavy air thick with sweet teen perfume and too much aftershave.
Her neon bunny ears which had seemed so amusing earlier felt childish now. They pinched her head brutally, pulling her hair and adding a throbbing headache behind her eyes to the nausea seething in her belly and the clammy moisture coating her palms. She should have stayed at home. She should have known better, especially after an entire day of the world feeling out of sync. Colors too bright. Smells too intense.
The party was a strangely surreal hell of dark light and glowing neon. Arm bands, glow sticks, and intensely bright teeth teemed in the dim room, the people behind them merely shadowy, amorphous shapes bumping into each other as they swayed and gyrated to the music.
The more she watched, the more disconnected they became. Disembodied lights and music fractured like a jagged migraine, all bound together by swirling black and gray as if the darkness was alive and moving. Strange currents seemed to move between the shadows, making the dancers’ aura of teenage lust, want, and angst almost palpable.
And then, as she watched, the shadows came alive, moving independently of the dancers. She thrust her sweating hands away from her body, blinking against the churning darkness, but the movement stirred the shadows and she felt them move against her skin.
Felt. The shadows. Move.
Kay froze, and the room seemed to freeze with her. She paused for a long moment on the cusp of something monumental and terrifying. Then, slowly, almost by instinct, she lifted her hands and curled her fingers.
The shadows rushed toward her in a maelstrom of churning black and gray and subtle streaks of midnight blue. They wrapped themselves around her hands and through her body, pouring through every part of her in a blinding tsunami of awareness.
She was connected to every person—every living thing—and every emotion, however dark or pure. Her skin burned as her body convulsed, and she clung onto the shadows, the only tangible element in that heaving room. They felt real, as if she could hold them and shape them into anything.
She tried to grip the shadows harder, and they fragmented, suddenly dissipating like a cloud of scattered ash. They flowed out of her and away, taking their lifeline and leaving her in a swirling, churning ocean of pounding pain as the darkness that had been threatening enclosed her, and she collapsed, crumpling to the floor.
Kay pushed the palms of her hands into her eyes, blocking out the memory. Blocking out the horrified wish that someone, anyone, might have told her what to expect. Warned her of what was coming. Prepared her in some way.
She pushed herself up to sit and shook away the thought. It was too late. No one had told her. Now she simply had to do the best she could to never find herself in that situation again.
Bloody stupid so-called school friends. Bloody stupid Mum and Dad. She was done with being humiliated. Done with feeling miserable. And she wasn’t about to be beaten by a damn tree.
Kay stood up and dusted off her jeans. Elizabeth had asked her to wait outside for twenty minutes, and she was going to use that time well. She pulled her ponytail tighter and then spread her hands to gather the Shadows once more. She was going to climb that tree. And she was going to do it with a Shadow.
Leaves crackled further down the path toward the college, and she let go of the Shadows as she whirled to face the noise. Only students and their families could come into the college grounds and surrounding woodland, but that didn’t mean she wanted to risk being caught failing.
Two boys stepped into view and stopped when they reached her. Both tall and blond, lanky, a little older than her. She’d met them when she first arrived and found herself sharing some of their classes. They were both much more experienced Shadow Weavers. James had been in Wales for a year already, while Zach had always lived in the local village, and they’d both grown up in families that had prioritized the Order.
James glanced at the tree, and then back at Kay. His blue eyes flicked over her dusty jeans and messy ponytail, and then landed on her face, which was no doubt streaked with dirt from where she’d been wiping her eyes. His grin was cocky but not unfriendly as he tipped his head toward the tree. “Still practicing?”
She sighed. “Yep.”
He dipped his chin. “You’ll get it.”
James sounded so certain, so utterly convinced that she could do it, that she almost asked him how he could possibly know. Almost. But she kept the question to herself. She liked these two boys—both as determined as she was to join the Guardians, both willing to train with her and to include her at their table for lunch. And even more importantly, neither of them had ever suggested that she didn’t belong. She wasnotgoing to hand them a reason to do so now.
James must have read something of the question in her face because he answered as if she’d spoken. “I know a fighter when I see one.”
She shoved her hands in her pockets, trying to seem casual. Trying not to show how much his belief meant to her.
Zach—just as blond, just as tall and athletic, but far more serious, the entire world constantly weighing down his rangy shoulders—gave her a small smile. “It’s why we like you.”
“Really?” The word slipped out before she could think of something less needy to say. Or, even better, keep her mouth shut.
